Two lovers, here at the corner, by the steeple, <br />Two lovers blow together like music blowing: <br />And the crowd dissolves about them like a sea. <br />Recurring waves of sound break vaguely about them, <br />They drift from wall to wall, from tree to tree. <br />'Well, am I late?' Upward they look and laugh, <br />They look at the great clock's golden hands, <br />They laugh and talk, not knowing what they say: <br />Only, their words like music seem to play; <br />And seeming to walk, they tread strange sarabands. <br /> <br />'I brought you this . . . ' the soft words float like stars <br />Down the smooth heaven of her memory. <br />She stands again by a garden wall, <br />The peach tree is in bloom, pink blossoms fall, <br />Water sings from an opened tap, the bees <br />Glisten and murmur among the trees. <br />Someone calls from the house. She does not answer. <br />Backward she leans her head, <br />And dreamily smiles at the peach-tree leaves, wherethrough <br />She sees an infinite May sky spread <br />A vault profoundly blue. <br />The voice from the house fades far away, <br />The glistening leaves more vaguely ripple and sway . . <br />The tap is closed, the water ceases to hiss . . . <br />Silence . . . blue sky . . . and then, 'I brought you this . . . ' <br />She turns again, and smiles . . . He does not know <br />She smiles from long ago . . . <br /> <br />She turns to him and smiles . . . Sunlight above him <br />Roars like a vast invisible sea, <br />Gold is beaten before him, shrill bells of silver; <br />He is released of weight, his body is free, <br />He lifts his arms to swim, <br />Dark years like sinister tides coil under him . . . <br />The lazy sea-waves crumble along the beach <br />With a whirring sound like wind in bells, <br />He lies outstretched on the yellow wind-worn sands <br />Reaching his lazy hands <br />Among the golden grains and sea-white shells . . . <br /> <br />'One white rose . . . or is it pink, to-day?' <br />They pause and smile, not caring what they say, <br />If only they may talk. <br />The crowd flows past them like dividing waters. <br />Dreaming they stand, dreaming they walk. <br /> <br />'Pink,
